


Psyche

by ghostsea



Series: Gemini [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Eventual Fred Weasley/OC, F/M, First Love, Fred Weasley Lives, Gryffindor, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Love Triangles, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28778238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostsea/pseuds/ghostsea
Summary: Elara’s summer hadn't gone quite as she’d hoped. Her relationship with her mother had reached breaking point, contact with her friends had been sparse or in the case of Fred Weasley, completely non-existent, and to top it all off, she now had Draco Malfoy’s birthday party to get through.At least she has her sixth year at Hogwarts to look forward to. But with the clashing expectations of Fred and Draco to contend with, and worry for her dad’s whereabouts growing stronger every day, it looks like this year could be very different from her last.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Gemini [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105292
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Loneliness and Little Parties

It had been a long, hot, dry summer. A month and a half had passed Elara by in a monotonous cocoon of loneliness. She had spent most of its days walking around the surrounding area, mostly small Muggle villages and vast fields, with the sun beating down on her bare shoulders and sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Her evenings were usually spent by the window in her bedroom as boredom consumed her, every bird in the sky catching her eye in the vain hope that it was an owl carrying a letter for her. But it never was. 

The village roads and her bedroom were her sanctuary, her relationship with her mother now at breaking point. Almost every conversation they had descended into arguments, the ghosts of screaming matches and spiteful words smothering the house in a frosty chill in those warm months. 

She sat in her bedroom on the window seat, looking out over the front courtyard, the green leaves of the vines around her window framing the view. The sky was a clear blue, the sun still blistering hot but hanging low as dusk approached. 

It would have been easier, perhaps even slightly more bearable at least, if she had had regular contact with people who didn’t sneer at the sight of her. Even sporadic communication would have been better than the wall of silence from her friends. 

Heather had written at the start of the summer to ask Elara not to contact her too much. She was working on keeping the truth from her parents, hiding the fact that the wizarding world was no longer the magical and exciting place it once was for their daughter, that darker forces would rather she be excluded from it altogether. 

Nathan and Oran had written once or twice, but they had never really been pen-pals to begin with and Elara found that she had nothing of interest to write to them about anyway, her summer being so mundane. 

But the part that really hurt her heart, that tossed her between the raging waves of anger and the shallow pools of misery, was the lack of communication from her father and from Fred. Not a single letter. 

Not one. 

She had written to them both at the beginning of summer, back when her step was light and her outlook as sunny as the days proved to be, but both had gone unanswered. At first, she had descended into a needless worry, checking the Daily Prophet every day for any hint of a calamity that may have befallen them. She even considered writing to George or visiting the Ministry herself to see her father. But her father was at work every day as usual, and so was Mr Weasley. There was no sign of any tragedy that could have impacted their ability to respond to a letter. 

Her father, she could accept. He was often bad at communicating, although he did usually make an attempt to see her at least once during her months home from school. But Fred? That was the one that kept her awake most nights, her eyes drawn to the blue butterfly he gifted her as she lay in bed, the wings glittering back at her from the bedside table. 

How could Fred have abandoned her? It was his idea to keep in touch over the summer after all, even to arrange a secret meeting. But instead, he had completely ignored her. 

It seemed to her there could be only one logical explanation. It screamed out at her every day when she opened the Daily Prophet to see the subtle and not so subtle references to the supposed lies of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. The headlines proclaiming that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had not in fact returned, that it was all just a tall tale concocted by a deranged and unhinged teenage boy. She knew the truth, as did Fred. And as did her mother, who had increasingly delved deeper into showcasing her pure-blood roots, as if to remind everyone that she had always been of the _right_ sort. 

And so she presumed that Fred must have finally realised what Elara had been trying to tell him; that their families were too different. Being away from her, back with his good and true parents, must have reminded him of the darkness that existed in Elara’s world, and how it would do him no good to become entangled in it. It was inevitable that he should realise she thought, but it didn’t mean it stung any less. 

She could hear her mother’s quick step coming down the hallway towards her door and she let out a deep sigh, hugging her knees and keeping her face fixed towards the window as she heard the door open behind her. 

“You’re not dressed!” her mother cried in frustration. 

“I already told you, I’m not going,” Elara mumbled. 

“And I already told you that this is not negotiable, you will be attending.” 

Elara sighed again, ignoring her mother’s shrill commands. Perhaps if she stayed quiet long enough, curled up small enough, she could disappear. 

“You have managed to worm out of going every other time but this one I will not allow,” her mother’s voice was impatient and final. “It’s too important. I’ve brought you a dress to wear and you will be ready to leave in thirty minutes.” 

“How many times do I need to tell you-” 

“ _Enough_.” 

Elara gritted her teeth and finally turned to face her mother. She stood in the middle of the room, her dark hair pinned back to rest at the nape of her neck, a long burgundy silk dress softening the hard edges of her bony physique. She had bewitched a dress to float alongside her, a pale one with a delicate floral pattern and floaty short sleeves. 

When her mother spoke again, her eyes blazed and her words were sharp. “I have made excuses for you all summer. Never mind the fact that your O.W.L marks were dismal because you spent your school year distracted by silly boys. Now you’ve taken to skulking around like a petulant child refusing to attend any social event, preferring instead to roam around the streets like a common Muggle. But _this._ This is Draco Malfoy’s birthday. Lucius and Narcissa are throwing a party to which you were invited. They expect you to attend.” 

Elara snorted. “Do you hear yourself? I’m sure the Malfoy’s will survive if I _regretfully_ cannot attend their precious son’s little party. God, I should have spent the summer with father.” 

“If he would have had you,” she sneered. 

“Well at least he wouldn’t drag me to the Malfoy’s for a stupid birthday party.” 

“You think your father is some kind of hero because he dislikes Lucius Malfoy?” her mother laughed derisively. “Open your eyes, you ignorant child, no one likes Lucius Malfoy. Your father didn’t socialise with the Malfoy’s out of some husbandly duty to me. No, he did it because even he understood the importance of appearances.” 

Her mother took a step forward, her voice lowering. “Your father never declared himself to any side in the last wizarding war. Do you know how he managed to get away with that? Because he kept close to the Malfoys, blamed his Quidditch career and used his connections like a shield.” 

Elara held her mother’s gaze defiantly even though she could feel her heart rate quicken. 

“Your behaviour this summer coupled with your dalliance with that Weasley boy last year have done more than just embarrass this family, it has put us all at risk. The Dark Lord will accept nothing but blind loyalty, so when my daughter and my ex-husband don’t play by the rules, I am called into question. Your grandmother is called into question. We are _all_ called into question.” 

“So this is your solution?” Elara said drily. “To put on a dress and some lipstick and attend a birthday party?” 

Cassini Prince fixed Elara with a hard stare. “How naïve you are. You don’t know how it was last time, but let me tell you, you will soon come to understand the importance of appearances.” She paused, throwing Elara a look of contempt. “Let me ask you this, do you think Harry Potter is any match for the Dark Lord? Truly?” 

Elara kept her mouth closed, attempting to keep her face impassive as she looked back at her mother. 

“You are in the same house as him at school, are you not?” her mother pressed. “You know what he’s like. At least the last time the Dark Lord had some formidable foes. But where are they now? Half have been driven mad, like Alastor Moody and the Longbottoms, and the other half are dead.” 

“There’s still Dumbledore.” 

“Albus is an old man now and he certainly won’t be around forever. But the Dark Lord has risen once more showing he has powers beyond even Dumbledore’s comprehension.” 

There was a slight feverishness in Cassini Prince’s eyes as she spoke of the Dark Lord causing Elara to bristle, yet her heart was hammering in her chest, the reality of her mother’s words permeating through the useless hope Elara had held on to all summer. 

And despite how deplorable Elara found her mother, she was still filled with an immeasurable guilt at the prospect of putting her in any type of danger. She was still her mother after all, her own flesh and blood that had given her life and had once held her to her bosom in her infant years. A woman who had wiped away her tears, read her the stories of the world, and who had clothed and bathed her. 

“Fine,” Elara said. 

Her mother stood straight, a triumphant leer on her face. “Get dressed,” she commanded before turning on her heel and leaving the room. 

Elara leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. To think that she had once thought her summer could have been as happy as her school year. That avoiding the Malfoys would be enough, and that she would be sneaking off to meet Fred every other week and writing gleeful letters to Heather. Her mother was right about one thing at least, she had been incredibly naïve. 

She reluctantly stood and walked towards the floral dress which still floated where her mother had stood not moments before. With a grimace she grabbed it and threw it on to the bed before walking towards her dressing room. 

* * *

Elara descended the stairs, holding on to the bannister as her heels clicked against the wooden floorboards. 

“What happened to the dress I left for you?” her mother snapped. “You look like you’re going to a funeral.” 

Elara scowled as she met her in front of the fireplace. She had chosen to ignore her mother's fashion choices for her and instead had chosen for herself. She wore a tight black dress that cinched at the waist, with a sweetheart neckline and high slit that came to her thigh. Her hair had been pulled back low and she had accessorised with gold jewellery, earning a disapproving glare from her mother. 

She stepped into the fireplace and felt like she had attended a funeral already, the one of her past life. A time where she thought she could escape the life her mother had so meticulously planned for her, one instead that she could mould for herself, filled with happiness and decisions all of her own. 

Well, she thought, if her mother was going to win in the end then Elara would play her role beautifully. She would show everyone how a Prince makes their way in this world. 

Cassini took a handful of Floo Powder and held it out in front of her, Elara could feel the darkness within herself rear its ugly head in anticipation. 

“Malfoy Manor,” Cassini Prince said as the green flames engulfed them whole. 


	2. The Birthday Party

Elara and her mother stepped from the fireplace into the lounge of Malfoy Manor. A house-elf rushed forward to greet them, and through the door Elara could see other elves run back and forth along the long corridor, trays of food and drinks in their tiny hands. Narcissa had hired house-elves. Elara rolled her eyes at the thought. 

“Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” the house-elf squeaked, looking up at them with his large, watery eyes. “Tonight’s party is taking place in the Rose Garden. Shall I show you the way?” 

“No, thank you,” Cassini said curtly. “I know where I’m going.” 

Cassini strode through the house confidently with Elara at her side, as if to make a show of the fact that she knew the Malfoy Manor well. The sounds of laughter and music grew louder as they walked down the long hallway towards the garden, until they emerged outside, the warm night greeting them. 

“Jesus Christ,” Elara muttered under her breath. 

To say the garden had been decorated lavishly would be an understatement. A band had been set up at the far end, playing an upbeat song to a small crowd of cheerful dancers gathered in front of them. Round tables had been set up along the edge of the garden, each draped in white tablecloths and decorated with rich floral arrangements of green and black, whilst hundreds of lanterns and candles had been bewitched to float just above their heads, casting the whole party in a warm glow. 

But perhaps more eye-catching than the décor were the partygoers. Elara recognised some of them and as her mother straightened her back, she imagined she perhaps recognised more. It seemed the whole of the wizarding worlds upper society had been invited. With the exception of some of Draco’s Slytherin classmates huddled together around one table, there was no indication that this was in fact a party for a teenage boy. 

She watched as Lucius Malfoy schmoozed his way through the crowd when it clicked, that this was not so much a birthday party as it was a recruitment event. 

“Ah, Narcissa!” Her mother grabbed Elara’s elbow and pulled her forward to where Mrs Malfoy stood. 

“Cassini!” Narcissa smiled before kissing her mother on both cheeks. “And Elara, how lovely to see you. We’ve missed you this summer.” 

“Thanks for inviting me Mrs Malfoy,” Elara said dutifully. 

Narcissa turned then, her eyes quickly casting round the garden. “Draco, come! The Prince’s are here.” 

Draco Malfoy excused himself from the two men he was talking to before coming towards Elara and her mother with a smirk on his face. He was dressed in all black, just like her, and his eyes flickered on her for a moment with a glimmer of amusement before he greeted Mrs Prince with a sickly-sweet smile. 

“Oh Draco, look how handsome you are!” Mrs Prince said, reaching out to smooth down the front of his jacket. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” Elara muttered before turning abruptly, her eyes landing on the bar. She left her mother with the Malfoys, nudging her way through the various guests until she reached the outdoor pop-up bar where a teenage boy in a white jacket greeted her and placed a champagne in front of her. 

“Anything stronger?” she asked. 

The boy grinned before reaching under the bar and pouring her another drink. “It’s a double,” he winked as he handed it to her. 

“Wonderful,” she replied before taking the drink and making her way to an empty seat at one of the furthest away tables. The guests sitting there looked up at her expectantly but Elara turned her seat to face away from them and heard their whispers of indignation as she sat with her back to them, facing out on to the party. 

Already, she could see Draco come towards her, his eyes on her as a smile danced on his lips. She took a deep gulp of her drink and felt it burn its way down her throat. 

“Well, that was rude,” he said as he sat down beside her, one arm leaning on the table as he reclined back in the chair. 

Elara rolled her eyes and looked back out on to the party. There must have been at least a hundred people in attendance. 

“This is a little over the top, is it not?” she commented. 

“Well, we have a lot to celebrate.” 

She shook her head as she glared at his smug face. How utterly dreadful he was. 

“I was going to ask if you’d like to dance,” he said. 

“No.” 

He chuckled as Elara took another gulp of her drink. “Are you really going to turn me down on my birthday?” 

“Yes.” 

She could feel his eyes on her still until he jumped from his seat abruptly causing Elara to look round in confusion. As if from nowhere he had Mrs Prince’s arm and was ushering her into his now vacated seat. 

“Take my seat, Mrs Prince,” he said as Cassini was pushed on to the seat, a look of surprise on her face. 

“Oh, ok. Thank you, Draco,” she said, holding her champagne glass tightly. 

“I was just asking Elara here if she would like to have this dance with me,” he said, his eyes fixed on Elara with a triumphant smile. Elara glared back at him. 

“Well, of course she will! Won’t you Elara?” Elara could hear the commanding tone in her mother's voice and sighed deeply as Mrs Prince fixed her with a stern look. 

She downed the rest of her drink in one and flashed her mum a quick, sarcastic smile as her mother scolded her. “Elara!” 

Elara ignored Draco’s outstretched hand as she stood and made her way towards the stage where the band was playing, Draco following closely behind her. 

“Here’s fine,” he said, grabbing her hand and turning her to face him. He wrapped an arm around the small of her back, gathering her close to him as she rested her hand gingerly on his shoulder, looking past him with his cheek close to hers. 

A flood of memories and old feelings came back to her at the touch of his hand, his familiar smell filling her headily. How once she had longed for a moment like this with him. How long ago it all seemed now. 

“This party is a little ostentatious,” she said, attempting to steady her voice. “You do realise that, right?” 

He chuckled, “I knew it wouldn’t be to your taste.” 

They swayed in silence for a few moments, Elara taking in the sights of groups of men and women either chatting loudly or standing together in hushed whispers. 

“I hear you’re no longer with Weasley,” he said. 

Elara was glad he couldn’t see her face as she replied. “I see that despite everything going on, gossip about my life still remains top of my mother’s agenda.” 

“It does. I wasn’t disappointed to hear it either. You were far too good to be wasting your time with a Weasley.” 

Elara scoffed. “And who should I be wasting my time with then?” 

“Me,” he said simply. 

She wondered when his little games would begin but she said nothing as they danced together, no longer rising to his bait. They moved in a slow circle, the table of Draco’s friends gradually coming into view, all of them laughing uproariously at something. All except Pansy Parkinson, whose beady eyes were fixed on Elara, her face twisted in an unmistakeable fury. 

“Well, I do hope Pansy hasn’t mastered the art of non-verbal spells,” Elara said drily, “or I expect I shall be dropping dead at any moment.” 

“Who cares what she thinks?” he said, his voice quiet in her ear. “Who cares what anyone thinks?” 

She opened her mouth to answer as he pulled her in even closer, his breath landing in her ear in a whisper. “This is where you belong Elara, and all of this belongs to you.” He paused. “As do I.” 

Her heart began to race at his words, at the earnest honesty in them and she pulled back quickly to look at his face. He stared back at her defiantly, his grey eyes never leaving hers and she felt a sense of vulnerability at his closeness. She moved to pull away but he held her close. 

“Don’t run away now,” he said quietly. “Your mother’s still watching. It won’t be worth the aggravation.” 

She returned to her position glancing over his shoulder, preferring the intimacy of his body against hers to the terrifying honesty of his face. They swayed on until finally the last note of the song trilled through the air and she immediately pulled away from him, turning on her heel without a backwards glance as she pushed through the crowd. 

She spotted the bar from before and quickly strode towards it. The barman caught her eye and must have sensed something from the look on her face as he quickly placed another double on the counter. 

“Impeccable service,” she said to him as she lifted it and made her way back through to the house, away from the garden and its party, and away from Draco. 

The house-elves bowed as she passed but she barely noticed them, her heels clicking as she walked towards the grand staircase, climbing to the first level and turning down the familiar corridors. She came to the spot she was looking for, opening the ornate French doors which led on to a small balcony overlooking the West Gardens, the sounds of the party around the corner reaching her ears. 

Her heart was still hammering as she attempted to calm herself by sipping on her drink and looking out over the grounds. The green fields on the horizon were reaching up to meet the sun as it began to set, and the sky was tinged with magnificent streaks of pale pinks and lilacs. 

Her mind was racing despite the calmness of the view, Draco’s words still ringing in her ear, his warm breath lingering like a tattoo. Words that she had once dreamed of hearing him say. Now though, everything had changed. She had changed. But ultimately, did that matter? Her life was playing out exactly as her mother had hoped. And here it was, the crowning jewel, Draco Malfoy offering himself to her. 

She threw back the last of her drink and sat it on the ledge of the balcony. She should just leave now. Put this night behind her and wait until school starts where she at least had some freedom to choose her own mistakes. 

She heard the door open behind her and didn’t need to turn to know who it would be. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” Draco said as she kept her eyes fixed on the grounds laid out in front of her. “It was always your favourite spot to watch the sunsets from.” 

She heard his step come closer as he stood directly behind her, his arm appearing over her shoulder as he pointed to a tall tree down near the exterior gate. “Do you remember when I fell from that tree?” he asked quietly. “I cut my knee. We were very young and I was crying when you came over and told me that you would fix it. And then you bent down and kissed my knee and the cut disappeared, remember? No blood or anything, as if nothing had happened.” 

She nodded, unable to speak as he stepped even closer. 

“It was the first time you had ever done magic. Mother didn’t believe us when we told her.” 

He was pressing against her now, his voice low in her ear as he pointed to a stretch of green grass. “And the year mother planted sunflowers in that field. You would sit amongst them every time you came to visit and I would get so cross because you didn’t want to spend time with me. You just wanted to admire those flowers all day. You’ve loved sunflowers ever since.” 

His fingers trailed from the top of her bare shoulder down her arm, goosebumps rising under his touch until his fingers met her own. The feel of his hand on hers seemed to send a jolt through Elara and she snatched her hand away, spinning around the face him. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaking. 

He was so close to her. She could see the pale colours of the sky reflecting in his eyes and feel the ledge of the balcony press into her lower back. 

“Reminding you of what I told you last year at school,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers. “That you and I are meant to be together.” 

“No,” she said, pushing past him and through the doors as she rushed back towards the staircase. 

“Elara, wait!” 

Her heart was racing in her chest as she descended the stairs as quickly as her heels would allow. She had to get back to the fireplace. She had to leave here and get away from him. 

She was almost there, her step quick as she made it to the empty lounge before Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her back. 

“Stop!” he cried in frustration. “Why are you running away?! I know this is what you always wanted. I used to see it in the way you would look at me.” 

“ _Used to_ , Draco!” she snapped, pulling her arm from his grip. She stood in front of him, the anger and sadness of the summer no longer simmering quietly within her and instead boiling over, seeping into every part of her as a lump rose in her throat and tears stung her eyes. 

“This is where you belong,” he said exasperatedly. “Not with Weasley, or with anyone else, but with me. The world is changing Elara, and with the two of us together, we would be untouchable.” 

“This isn’t what I want!” Tears were falling down her cheeks now, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to wear these fancy clothes and smile politely at these fancy people at these fancy parties. I don’t want to sit by myself in a huge, lonely house, waiting dutifully for you to come home every night. Nothing to look forward to except my social events and more fancy dresses!”

He took a step towards her, his voice low as his eyes blazed. “Your life can be whatever you want it to be. It wouldn’t be like that with us.” 

“How do you know?”

“Because I’d make sure of it.”

Then suddenly his lips were on hers, his hand around her waist as he pulled her in close.

And almost immediately she missed Fred. She missed his warmth and his smile, and she knew like she always had, that she didn’t want Draco. She had only ever wanted Fred. 

She pushed him away and stepped back from him as he looked at her in defeat, his lips slightly parted as he stared at her. 

“I’m sorry Draco,” she whispered before turning from him and rushing to the fireplace, leaving Draco standing alone as she disappeared away from him. 


	3. A Cruel Twist of Fate

“Elara!” 

Elara could barely breathe as she was pulled into a bone-crushing hug by Heather, her long dark hair brushing against Elara’s face. 

“I’ve missed you so much!” 

“Heather, I can’t breathe,” Elara gasped. 

“Sorry,” Heather said, letting her go. She was more freckled than usual and her hair had grown by a few inches over the summer, but her bright blue eyes remained as dazzling as ever, even as they betrayed a glimmer of disquiet. “Come on, before all the good seats have gone.” 

She grabbed Elara’s hand and pulled her through the crowds of students saying their goodbyes on platform 9 and ¾'s. They trailed their luggage behind them until they managed to get on the train and find an empty carriage, Elara throwing herself down on to the seat with a sigh as Heather closed the carriage door. 

“How was your summer?” Elara asked as Heather sat down across from her. 

“Well, I would say it was pretty ordinary except for the fact I had to read the Daily Prophet by torchlight under my blankets.” 

“Your parents really know nothing?” 

“Not a thing,” Heather replied. “When I realised the Daily Prophet wasn’t going to report the truth I thought maybe it would be ok. But then I realised mum and dad probably wouldn’t want me sharing a Common Room with an attention-seeking sociopath at a magic school with an old crook at the helm.” 

Elara shook her head at the absurdity of it all. 

“Is it bad that I kind of wish it was true?” Heather said, her eyes round as she looked at Elara. “That the two of them are just nutters and it was all a lie.” 

“No,” Elara said softly. “It’s certainly preferable to the reality of it all.” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can hide it from them. They were suspicious when none of my friends were writing and that I didn’t make arrangements to meet up with you. I kind of let them believe we’d had a massive falling out.” 

Elara laughed. “And what did we fall out over?” 

“Oh, you were just way too jealous of my good looks and fantastic personality.” 

“Sounds about right,” Elara grinned. 

“So tell me,” Heather said, her voice lowering with a touch of trepidation, “how was your summer?” 

“Awful,” Elara replied honestly. “I’m not going back.” 

“What do you mean you’re not going back?” 

“I’m not going back to live with my mother next summer.” 

“But where will you go?”

“I turn seventeen this year,” she said. “I’ll get access to my vault at Gringotts so I’ll just get my own place. I can’t go back there, she’s utterly insufferable.” 

“Can’t you live with your dad?” 

Elara snorted. “My dad? Come on Heather, you know what he’s like.” 

Heather sat back in her seat with a sigh. 

“Besides,” Elara continued, “he’s pretty much went off the grid. I didn’t hear from him all summer.” 

“What? He didn’t visit?” 

“He didn’t even write.” 

Heather furrowed her brow, casting Elara a confused look. “Not once? The whole summer?” 

“Nope,” she said. “Not once.” 

“Well maybe he’s just been busy at the Ministry,” Heather said reassuringly. “You know, with the whole ‘covering up the return of the Dark Lord’ thing?” 

“In the Department of Magical Games and Sport?” 

Heather shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. I mean the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament has probably left them with quite a bit of cleaning up to do.” 

“Or maybe he’s just sick of mother and her Malfoy obsession like me,” Elara said. “I’d have stayed away if I was him too.” 

“Did you have to go to the Malfoys?” Heather asked. 

Elara turned her head to look out of the carriage window, the rolling fields of the countryside rushing past in a blur of green against the bright blue sky. “Just once, for Draco’s birthday.” 

“Well that’s good then, isn’t it?” Heather said brightly. “Just once is better than having to go every other week.” 

Elara sighed before looking back at Heather whose face immediately fell at the look Elara gave her. 

“What happened?” she asked. 

Elara didn’t even want to tell her, didn’t want to relive that warm, humid night in Malfoy Manor. The feel of Draco’s arms wrapped around her still fresh as though it had happened only a moment ago. 

She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat before answering. “Draco kissed me,” she said eventually. 

Heather only stared back, her lips parting slowly as she processed Elara’s words. “ _What_?” 

“He kissed me,” she repeated. “He gave me this whole speech about how we were meant to be together and how I belonged there, in that world, with him and all his Death Eater family and friends.” 

Heather’s eyes were wide, a look of concern flashing across her face. “You don’t believe that, do you?” 

“Of course not,” Elara said quickly, but even she could hear how unconvincing her words sounded. She turned to the window again, unable to face Heather’s uneasy stare for much longer. 

“Elara,” Heather said, her hand reaching out to touch Elara’s knee. Elara sighed and tore her eyes away from the window to look back at her. “You are not your family and you do _not_ belong with someone like Draco Malfoy. You are a good person who has defied her parents at every turn and you can continue to do so. I know you can.” 

Elara gave Heather a weak smile and nodded, feeling a tightness in her chest at her words. 

“God, what did Fred say when you told him?” Heather said with a devilish grin. “I bet he was fuming!” 

“I don’t think Fred would have cared much.” 

Heather frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“We’re over,” she shrugged in response. 

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus, Elara, what happened?” 

“Nothing,” she said. “I didn’t hear from him all summer either. It’s over.” 

Heather shook her head. “No,” she said disbelievingly. “There must be a logical explanation.” 

“Stop looking for explanations in everything Heather. This one doesn’t require one, Fred has obviously made his decision. It would have been nice to be involved in that decision, yes, but it’s done. And honestly, I don’t really want to talk about it.” 

Heather leaned her head back on the seat, her eyes still fixed on Elara as she shook her head. “God, and I thought I had a bad summer.” 

* * *

Elara and Heather jumped from the train on to the platform at Hogwarts, joining the throng of students heading excitedly to the castle. Elara cast her eyes around and it wasn’t long before they fell upon the heads of Fred and George Weasley up ahead who towered over most of the other students. Elara felt her heart jump to somewhere in her throat and immediately ducked down to tie her shoelaces causing Heather to almost tumble over her. She grabbed Heather’s sleeve and pulled her to crouch down beside her. 

"So this is your big plan is it?” Heather asked rolling her eyes. “What are you going to do all year, duck behind every statue and tapestry whenever you see a red head?” 

“Yes,” Elara said straightening up cautiously to make sure the Weasley’s were no longer in sight. “Either that or brew enough Polyjuice Potion to look like you for a year.” 

“I knew you were jealous of my good looks.” 

They made it to the Great Hall eventually, Heather pulling Elara’s arm to sit with Oran and Nathan who grinned at the sight of them, Oran smiling sheepishly at Heather. 

“Hi guys!” Nathan said. “How was your summer?” 

“Yeah great,” Elara and Heather both lied in unison. 

They listened as Nathan recounted his summer holiday to Italy, whilst Elara tried to petend not to notice Oran and Heather’s eyes linger on one another as he spoke. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was excitable, as it always was on the first night back. And although Elara was happy to be back, grateful to be away from her mother and her lonely summer, she was also too aware of Fred sitting a little further down, his voice carrying as he chatted to Lee Jordan. 

They watched the sorting ceremony and listened to the bizarre speech by the new Professor Umbridge when Heather leaned into Elara, her voice low. 

“Fred keeps looking at you, you know,” she whispered. 

Elara said nothing, fighting the urge to look back at him, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the squat, toad-like woman addressing them all. 

Eventually the feast began and Elara and Heather chatted with the boys, Elara trying hard to appear happy, as if to really show Fred how unbothered she was even though the opposite was true. They ate until they couldn’t stomach another bite and whispered over the whereabouts of Hagrid before finally it was time to head to bed. 

Elara immediately jumped from the bench and pulled at Heathers arm to leave quickly. 

“We’ll see you at the Common Room!” Heather called back to Oran and Nathan as she tripped over her robes trying to keep up with Elara. Nathan and Oran gave them a confused wave as Elara marched ahead with Heather, pushing her way through the students. 

It wasn’t long before she heard Fred’s voice calling on her from behind, however. She recognised it immediately and her heart hammered.

“Hey Elara! Wait up!” 

Heather threw her a sideways glance as Elara ignored him and kept walking. 

“ELARA!” 

Suddenly she felt him pull at her arm giving her no choice but to turn and face him. 

He looked good. His hair was shorter than last year and he was still as tall as ever, his warm brown eyes fixed on her as he leaned forward to speak. And then there was that smell, the one that she remembered most when she thought of him. The one that reminded her of a home, a place where she belonged. 

“Can I speak to you,” he said, and then perhaps seeing the hesitation in her eyes added, “please.” 

She could see Heather bite her lip as she looked between the two of them, and Elara knew if she said no that Heather would turn and march away from Fred right alongside her. 

“Fine,” Elara said reluctantly. 

“I’ll meet you at the Common Room,” Heather said, giving her a pointed look, letting her know that she would be waiting for her for as long as it took. 

She followed Fred into an empty classroom, her stomach seemingly doing somersaults and her palms sweating. She’d never felt like this around him before, it was the first time she’d ever wanted to run away from him. 

“How was your summer?” he asked once the door had closed. 

She blinked at him, “Yeah, really smashing, thanks.” 

He sighed, hearing the sarcasm in her voice. “I’m sorry, Elara. I really am -” 

“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off. She didn’t think she could stomach standing there a minute longer, waiting to hear the inevitable that he was finished with her. Months of knowing it in her heart was one thing but to actually hear him say it... Even at the thought of those words coming from his lips Elara felt the crushing weight of her summer all over again. 

“I wanted to write, I swear. It’s just, I couldn’t. We didn’t stay at the Burrow.” 

“Where did you stay?” 

“I can’t tell you.” 

She snorted as she turned to leave, “Fine.” 

“No, no, wait,” he said. “I genuinely can’t tell you. I’m not the Secret Keeper.” 

She stopped, staring back at him. And that’s when she realised that the wizarding world had truly changed. War was coming and she and Fred were already embroiled in it, Fred’s summer being taken up by things much bigger than she knew, and already they were being torn apart by it. 

“I thought about you every day,” he said. “And I wanted to write, I tried to write! But, well, I wasn’t allowed.” 

“You weren’t allowed?” 

He looked at her apprehensively. "Because of who your family are. They couldn’t risk information falling into the wrong hands.” 

She didn’t know who _they_ were, but she understood. “So you’re finally getting it?” she said snippily. “That our families are too different?” 

She saw a look of disappointment cross his face as he sighed. “Listen,” he said, stepping forward and taking her hand. Her breath caught in her throat at his touch, at the earnest way he leaned forward to speak to her. She wanted nothing more than to pull him to her, to hug him and feel his arms wrap protectively around her. But instead she stood still, fighting against her own yearning. 

“Have lunch with me on Saturday,” he said. “I’ll explain everything. Please.” 

She could barely bring herself to meet his eyes, couldn’t stomach being this close to him after all this time. “Ok,” she agreed. 

She walked back to the Common Room on her own, slipping away from Fred to hide within the crowd. Her mind was racing, her thoughts tumbling between what she wanted to do and what she should do. Her mother's words rang in her ear, of how her ‘dalliance with that Weasley boy’ had put them all in danger. 

And then she thought of the pain that she had carried within her chest all summer, the heartbreak that Fred had caused her, whether through no fault of his own or not. She couldn’t go through that again. She wasn’t even sure if it was wise of her to meet with him, what more was there to explain? His summer had taught him the truth, finally. Did his parents warn him to steer clear of her? Was there a family discussion perhaps, where all the Weasley’s spoke of the darkness the Prince name carried? 

She still loved him, she’d never doubted that. Not when tears stained her pillows all those lonely summer nights, not when Draco’s lips had met hers, and not tonight, when he had took her hand in his. But it was that love that held her back. 

All she wanted was for him to be happy, in the truest sense. The world deserved Fred Weasley at his best, full of mischief and fun, someone who was good and true. It seemed to her that being with Fred would be nothing but selfishness on her part. Because wouldn’t she only infect his world with the darkness of hers? Wouldn’t his family question how he could be with someone like her? And wouldn’t she just be putting her own family at risk? 

It didn’t seem fair, but it seemed logical, that for everyone else to be safe and happy, Elara had to be unhappy. What a cruel twist of fate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr - ghostseaao3
> 
> I don't have many followers on Tumblr but I'll be posting some little tidbits I've come across when writing if anyone is interested. Hope you're all keeping safe.


	4. Family Comes First

Elara’s first week back at Hogwarts felt decidedly different to previous years. Never before had she known such a divided atmosphere in the school, with those who firmly believed Harry Potter, and those that whispered of him as nothing but an attention-seeking spoiled brat. Arguments broke out in the corridors and it was impossible not to miss the once solid groups of friends now sitting at opposite ends of their house tables. Elara tried to keep her head down, although at times she couldn’t help but get caught up in the debates with Heather, Oran and Nathan on where Hagrid might be and what Professor Umbridge was really doing at Hogwarts. 

Finally Saturday came and Elara bounced from foot to foot nervously as she waited at the stairs to the Entrance Hall for Fred. She didn’t know whether she felt excited to see him or if she was dreading it. So far she had managed to avoid him expertly, ducking out of sight in the corridors and timing her lunch breaks to only cross paths with him for a fleeting moment. As she spotted Fred coming towards her now, hands jammed in his pockets, she realised she no longer had anywhere to hide. 

“Ready?” he asked with a smile. 

She nodded and followed him through the Hogwarts grounds. He marched ahead cheerfully, his backpack bouncing on his back as she struggled to keep up. They made it to Hagrid's hut when he finally slowed down, walking around the outskirts of the garden before stopping with a grin. 

“This will do,” he said. 

Elara looked around in bemusement. Clearly Hagrid had been gone for some time. Fred was laying a blanket down on a particularly overgrown patch of grass, with weeds growing underfoot and unruly strange plants sprouting nearby. Fred grinned up at her confused expression as he patted the blanket indicating for her to sit down. With a sigh, she sat cross-legged across from him. 

“I thought since neither of us could get to the Burrow this summer, I’d recreate it here,” he said proudly. “This is about as close to our messy garden as I could get, minus a few garden gnomes. I’m sure Hagrid won’t mind.” 

He opened his backpack and pulled out a flask of tea and a round tin. 

“I even got mum to send me some of her famous shortbread to bring some authenticity to proceedings. And the picnic set-up has the added bonus of being similar to our first date. I’m hoping it goes just as well,” he winked. 

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as the corners of her mouth twitched. Fred beamed at her before handing her a freshly poured tea. “Thank you,” she said, taking it from him. 

It was alarming how natural it felt to be with him, how easy it was to smile and roll her eyes at his jokes, and how effortless it was to relax around him. Even as her heart fluttered in her chest like the ornamental butterfly he had once gifted her. 

Elara cradled her mug in her hands and cast her eyes over the grounds, the castle standing over them proudly as the sun reflected in its windows. 

“I know you’re mad at me,” he said. “I’d be mad at me too. I owe you an explanation for all of it.” 

He ran a hand through his hair as he placed his mug down on the blanket beside him. “Have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?” 

“The resistance movement to You-Know-Who?” 

He nodded. “They’ve reformed, well, what’s left of them, and they have a headquarters. Dumbledore’s the Secret-Keeper for it so I can’t tell you where it is, but that’s where we were. We’ve been-” 

Elara held up her hand, “Stop!” 

Her heart was hammering inexplicably in her chest. She knew of the Order of the Phoenix, of course she did. And it should have filled her with hope that the resistance to the Dark Lord was already starting, but instead all she could think of was how Fred was seventeen now. Was he part of the Order already? She knew in her heart that if there was a fight to be had, Fred would want to be a part of it, to be in the thick of danger. And if he was now legally an adult, who could stop him? 

“You shouldn’t be telling me this,” she said. 

“Why not?” he said, his brow furrowed. “I trust you.” 

“There are plenty of ways to get information from a person.” 

He stared back at her as the silence seemed to stretch on. 

“I’m worried about you,” he said quietly. 

Whatever she had been expecting from him, it hadn’t been that. Of the two of them she should have been the one worrying for him, for his proximity already in a war that hadn’t even begun. 

“I’ve spoken to Heather,” he continued. “She told me you’re not planning on going home next summer. Elara, what happened?” 

She shrugged as she thought of how much she should tell him, of her mother’s warnings and her father’s absence. Did she really need to worry him with it all? But then again, it was Fred. She always told him everything, it was one of the main things she missed about him. 

“My mother’s chosen a side,” she said eventually. “The wrong side. I can’t live there with her anymore.” 

“What about your father?” 

She sighed as she felt that familiar sting of neglect. “He’s no interest in me. I didn’t hear from him all summer either.” 

A look of guilt and sympathy crossed Fred’s face and Elara had to look away. All of this was more difficult than was fair, everything had gone wrong. And there sat the person she loved, so irresistibly out of reach to her now, her own happiness bound up within him. 

“Did your mum drag you to the Malfoys?” 

She took a sip of her tea and avoided his eye. She had to tell him what happened, even though she knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. Of course he wouldn’t. All this time she had been telling him how horrible Malfoy had been to her all these years, now she’d have to tell him that he kissed her. She didn’t know which one he’d prefer to hear. 

“I have to tell you something,” she said, as she lowered her mug. 

She knew he deserved the truth at least, but it didn’t make what she had to say any easier as he looked at her expectantly. 

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I managed to avoid going to the Malfoy’s. It was partly why mum was so mad at me. Except once, for Draco’s birthday.” 

Fred rolled his eyes and snorted. “A Malfoy birthday party. Let me guess, it was full of evil people with some voodoo initiation ceremony at midnight?” 

“Evil people, yes, but I left before midnight so I can’t confirm the initiation ceremony.” 

He chuckled. “I bet there was, you know. You probably missed the most exciting part of the night. Do you think they sacrifice house-elves under the moon?” 

She only looked back at him as his smile subsided. “What is it?” he asked. 

“It’s Draco.” 

His expression immediately darkened as he paused with his mug in his hand. “What did he do?” 

Elara heart was beating a tattoo in her chest and she wondered if he could hear it. This felt worse than when she had to tell Heather, she was apprehensive then too but this time she could feel a sick nervousness in the pit of her stomach. She had a brief fantasy of just running away from him right there and then. 

Instead, she took a steadying breath and spoke the words to him calmly. “He kissed me.” 

Fred’s reaction was immediate as he lowered his mug to the ground forcefully, tea spilling over the blanket. “What?!” 

“He kissed me. At his birthday party.” 

“Did you kiss him back?” 

“No,” she said quickly. “I pushed him away and then I left.” 

Elara didn’t know if she’d ever seen Fred so angry. His face seemed to match the colour of his hair as his nostrils flared. “That slimy bastard! I’m going to kill him!” 

Elara interrupted before he could continue on in his expletive filled rant against Draco, talking over him loudly. “Technically, he didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Fred opened and closed his mouth a few times in indignation before finally finding his words. “He didn’t do anything wrong?!” he said incredulously. “He kissed -” 

“- a single girl at his birthday party. We told everyone we had broken up Fred, and ultimately that turned out to be true.” 

Fred stared back at her dumbfounded. “Is that what you thought?” 

“Yes! I didn’t hear from you the whole summer. I thought you’d finally realised that this wasn’t going to work! That our families are too different and this is too difficult.” 

“I don’t care how difficult it is!” 

Elara let out a groan of frustration and saw Fred bristle in return. “I don’t!” he said angrily. “I love you and I want to be with you. It’s that simple!” 

It was the first she’d heard him say ‘I love you’ since before the summer, and she felt herself inadvertently take a sharp intake of breath at the sound of the words rolling so easily off his tongue. 

She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.” 

“It is,” he said irritably. “You’re the one making it more complicated.” 

“We already had a summer where we couldn’t even write to each other, Fred! You locked away in hiding with the Order and me moving in circles with known Death Eaters! What’s more complicated than that?” 

“Big deal!” 

She sighed loudly. 

“No, seriously, big deal!” he said again. “What, because it’s difficult we just give up?” 

“It’s not just us we need to think about, it’s our families too!” 

“You aren’t on the same side as your family!” he said. “You’ve already decided to leave them come next summer. So why can’t you just allow yourself to be happy? Why do you need to continuously punish yourself?” 

“Because my actions have been selfish!” she cried. 

Why couldn’t he just see? Why was it so difficult for him to understand what she could see so plainly? 

“Everything I have done over the last year has put my family at risk!” she said, her voice rising now. “I know you think it’s as simple as fighting against the Dark Lord, but my family have aligned themselves to him! If I fight against him, I fight against my own family!” 

“Who said anything about fighting? I’m talking about me and you being together!” 

“But if we are together then my family’s loyalty is called into question! My mother, my father, my grandparents, all of them!” 

“ _A_ _nd they are adults who have made their own decisions!”_ he yelled causing Elara to jump. 

She stared back at him, eyes wide. She had never heard him yell before, and immediately she felt a lump rise in her throat. She felt angry at her own weakness as tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

Elara looked away to quickly wipe away her tears. 

“Elara -” he sighed. 

Elara shook her head and smiled. “It’s fine,” she whispered. 

It was their first ever fight, and boy did it suck. Even last year when Fred thought something was going on between her and Draco they had talked it over reasonably. No raised voices, no angry outbursts. Since stepping off the train into London at the end of last year it seemed Elara’s life had been filled with a cloud of bitter tempers and sharp tongues, like a cloud of discontent had been hovering over her head for months. 

The silence between them was becoming unbearable. She knew Fred was watching her, waiting for her to speak first but she was afraid her voice would break if she did. She reached her hand into the tin of shortbread and picked one up to give herself something to do, to distract from her urge to cry again. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Fred’s eyes as she bit down into it. 

It was the most delicious shortbread she’d ever tasted and she looked back up at him with a watery smile. “These are unbelievable.” 

He laughed despite himself, the tension between them thawing. “Mum will be pleased to hear it,” he said. “George told her all about you by the way.” 

Elara watched as he picked up a biscuit and finished it in two bites. 

“George did? Not you?” she asked. 

“Didn’t get a chance to,” he said thickly before swallowing. “We’d barely made it off the train when George started going on about you to her. I think he was trying to embarrass me.” 

“Did it work?” she asked with a smirk. 

“Not a chance. I showed her a photo of you and she started asking George when he was going to find a nice girl too. Shut him up for a while.” 

Elara laughed as she finished the rest of her shortbread, feeling a bittersweet happiness settle in her chest. 

“I’m sorry for shouting,” he said, looking at her guiltily. “I just want you to know that it isn’t all your burden to carry. If you need time to work things out then that’s ok, but we can do this.” 

She smiled back at him gratefully. 

“I mean, it’s only the return of the darkest wizard that’s ever lived,” he shrugged. “What’s the big fuss?” 

She laughed before giving him a scolding look, although she was grateful for his jokes. She’d missed his sense of humour, and they allowed her to brush over the looming cause of their argument in the first place. 

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before I pissed you off so much you would be shouting in frustration,” she said. 

“I really thought it would have been the other way about.” 

She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you do have your moments.” 

They both smiled at one another and already Elara felt like their argument had happened a forgotten lifetime ago. Yet she was still resolute in her meaning. Yes, she loved Fred, and yes, she wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t see how things could go back to how they were last year. Everything was much more complicated. And even as they sat there, two teenagers in the shadow of their school, eating shortbread and drinking tea, she felt instead like an adult. One who had had to grow up too quickly and had been thrown into a world where although she was of no consequence to the Dark Lord, he was very much of consequence to her. 

Her mother had always told her that family comes first. Elara had once thought that would be a family of her own choosing, but as always her mother was right, even when she was in the wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr - ghostseaao3


	5. The Missing Prince

Elara made her way towards the Great Hall, dodging her way through the crowds of students lingering around as they chatted to their friends. Classes were finished for the day and Elara walked towards the Gryffindor table where she could see Fred, George and Heather sitting at the far end, Heather reading a book she’d propped up against a jug of water. Fred caught her eye and smiled from across the room and she was just about to make her way to him when someone pulled at her arm. 

“Elara, I need to talk to you.” 

It was Draco, leaning in towards her as he spoke quietly. She hadn’t seen him this close since that night in Malfoy Manor, and the memory of his lips on hers rushed back to her in a hurricane of remembered touches. 

“Not now Draco, I’m not in the mood,” she said, turning away from him. She was keenly aware of Fred, George and Heather now watching them intently and was eager to avoid any more confrontations. 

“It’s about your father,” he hissed urgently. 

Elara stopped before turning to face him, attempting to read his face. Was this just another ploy in his games? It would be very much in character for Draco to use whatever ammo he could find to get back at her, to punish her for refusing him that night. But again, all she could see was a look of sincerity, that pressing look of seriousness that she remembered from when they had danced together and he had pulled her in close to him. 

“What about him?” she asked. 

He indicated for her to follow him out of earshot of the Great Hall and with a feeling of trepidation, she reluctantly did so, making her way out of the Entrance Hall to stop on the stairs at the front of the castle. She stood on the step above him as he cast his eye around before speaking to her in an urgent whisper. 

“Have you heard from him? Your father?” he asked. 

“No,” she said, crossing her arms. Like she needed Draco to remind her of her dad’s disregard for her feelings. 

“My father’s looking for him.” 

Elara sighed. “Then tell your father to write to him. Or even better, visit him at the Ministry. Your father practically lives there, does he not?” 

Draco furrowed his brow, looking genuinely surprised at her reaction. “Elara, your father hasn’t been going to work. No one’s seen or heard from him in a fortnight.” 

Elara felt as though she had been plunged into ice as she froze in front of him. That familiar grip of worry seemed to constrain her throat, the same feeling she had had when Fred didn’t write back to her. But this time, something felt different, as if in some part of her she had always known there was something wrong. 

How could she not have known? And why was she hearing this from Draco Malfoy of all people? 

Draco held up a piece of parchment with neat, slanted writing visible across it. “My father’s written to me to ask you personally if you could reach him.” 

“Why does your father want to speak to my dad?” 

Draco said nothing as he looked back at her and Elara understood his silence immediately. It explained everything; why her father had been quiet all summer, and why he hadn’t visited her once. Lucius was trying to recruit him, of course he was. And he was conniving and cruel enough to use his own son to do so. 

“Your father is in danger Elara,” Draco whispered, his eyes falling on two Ravenclaw students who hurried past. “It would be in his best interest to make himself known. Write to him, he’ll respond if it’s from you.” 

Elara could barely breathe, yet inexplicably and selfishly, she felt angry. Angry at the whole damn world for working and moving in ways that only further led to her uneasiness and unhappiness. Everything was out of her control completely, and none of it was her fault. Draco was watching her but she couldn't bring herself to speak another word to him, shaking her head and leaving him standing as she left for the Owlery. 

In the Great Hall, Fred sat with his eyes fixed on the entrance, his knee bouncing impatiently under the table. “That’s it!” he said, getting to his feet. “I’m going to see what’s taking them so long.” 

“Sit down,” Heather said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back down roughly on to the bench. “You’ll only make things worse.” 

“Did she tell you?” he snapped, his usual warm brown eyes flashing darkly. “About him coming on to her at his birthday party?” 

“He did a bit more than just come on to her mate,” George said as Fred glowered at him. 

Heather sighed, “Yes, she told me.” 

She watched as Fred’s eyes remained fixed on the doorway, caught by any dark-haired female that walked through. 

“Just give her some time Fred,” she said in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. “She can handle him now.” 

Immediately she knew she had said the wrong thing as Fred rounded on her. “She can handle him _now_? What does that mean?” 

Heather ran a hand through her hair, twirling the ends with her finger as her brain worked furiously. “They have a complicated history is all,” she said. 

“Should I be worried?” he asked, a hint of panic in his voice. 

“No!” She shouldn’t have said anything she realised, she was only making things worse. “I just mean she’s known him for a long time.” 

Fred was still staring at her, looking utterly unconvinced. 

“Look,” she sighed, “Malfoy used to have some weird kind of hold on her, I don’t know how to explain it. I guess it was just from growing up together. But she’s different now. In fact, she’s been different ever since you. Trust me, you were the best thing that could have happened to her last year. She’ll come round.” 

She watched as Fred seemed to relax slightly and she caught George’s eye who gave her a reassuring nod. Thankfully, it looked like she might have managed to save it. For now. 

Meanwhile, Elara stood at one of the windows of the Owlery, looking out over the impressive grounds as the owls twittered all around her. The sun was low in the sky, casting shadows over the hills and valleys, and Elara could hear from below the sounds of laughter from a crowd of students heading back to the castle. 

She had sent a letter to her father and had watched as the owl had taken off into the sky with a heaviness in her chest. For all these years, she had never given the return of the Dark Lord a single thought, never dared to believe that it would happen, and that even if it did, how could it possibly affect her? She was a sixteen-year-old girl, the stories of the Wizarding War seemed to belong to those of heroes and villains, not of people like her. 

But then, she supposed, that’s the incredible power of darkness. Even at the mere whisper of it, things change. It has a way of seeping into everything, like smoke traversing across lands, pouring through keyholes and being inhaled as it moved. And now, there she was, only at the beginning and already she’d lost her happiness with Fred, had been controlled like a pawn on a chess board by her mother, and now her father was in hiding. Or worse. 

She closed her eyes. Her dad would be out there somwhere and he would be safe. She had to believe that. And she’d never been more grateful than in that moment that her dad was a true Slytherin. Surely those traits alone, would keep him alive. 

* * *

Elara had skipped dinner and gone straight to bed after leaving the Owlery, pretending to be asleep when she heard Heather come in even though she barely slept at all. Heather woke her in the morning with a gentle nudge and reluctantly Elara got ready for another day. Another day of pretending that everything was ok. 

She pulled her bag over her shoulder, her mind deep in thought when she caught Heather glancing at her. 

“Are you ok?” she asked. 

“Yes,” Elara said in what she hoped was a bright voice, although she should have known better, brightness at this hour had never come naturally to her. 

“Are you sure?” Heather pressed. “What did Draco want yesterday?” 

And as foolish as it was, Elara couldn’t bring herself to voice the truth. She felt as though speaking it aloud would only make it real. That her father was missing. That Death Eaters were looking for him. 

“Nothing,” she said, avoiding Heather’s eye. “Just his usual rubbish. Come on, let’s head down to breakfast, I’m starving.” 

But even at the breakfast table Elara found her mind wandering, the sick feeling in her stomach a continuous presence as she ignored the buttered toast on her plate. 

And this seemed to go on for weeks, or perhaps it was only days. Mornings of rushing to the Great Hall to glance expectantly at the morning owls yet knowing in her heart there wouldn’t be one for her. Days of barely hearing a word in class, of missed deadlines, and of worried glances from her friends. Nights spent alone, always claiming to want an early night to get away from the noises of the Common Room but then finding the silence of the dorm only more overwhelming. 

So when Professor Umbridge asked her to stay behind after another dull Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, she half-expected her to enquire over her falling grades or faraway expression every class. What she hadn’t expected was for Umbridge to smile sweetly and ask after her father. 

“Sorry?” Elara said, feeling she must have misheard her. 

“I was asking if you had heard from your father,” she repeated, in her high-pitched voice. “He hasn’t been going to work and we are all a little concerned.” 

“I don’t know where he is,” Elara said, folding her arms and staring back at her. 

Umbridge seemed taken aback by Elara’s attitude and her smile faltered ever so slightly. “Have you tried contacting him?” 

“Of course.” 

“And nothing?” 

“Nothing.” 

Umbridge’s smile had vanished now and she looked at Elara with an air of impatience. “Well, where could he be?” 

“No idea.” 

“My dear child, aren’t you concerned? Your attitude seems very blasé.” 

“Of course I’m concerned,” Elara snapped. “My father has gone missing. But there seems to be a lot of that happening underneath the Ministry’s nose right now, doesn’t there Professor?” 

Umbridge straightened to her full height, which was admittedly not that tall, and swelled with indignation. “I would remind you Miss Prince, that I have the power to deduct points from your house if your attitude does not improve. I would also advise that you head straight to your dormitory where you will spend the remainder of this evening redoing the essay I set you last week since your grade was less than satisfactory. I’ll expect it on my desk in the morning.” 

Elara turned on her heel and marched towards the Gryffindor Common Room with her jaw clenched. She wasn’t going to do the essay, let Umbridge do her worst, she thought. Yet even as she walked the anger was already subsiding, the utter pointlessness of it when compared to the sick worry in her chest. She entered the Common Room where she was immediately stopped by Fred. 

God, she missed him. He stood in front of her, his face full of concern and without thinking Elara quicky wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, that familiar smell and warmth enveloping her as he immediately hugged her close to him. He said nothing for a moment and Elara was grateful for his silence, closing her eyes to the sounds of his breathing. 

She pulled away and kept her eyes fixed on the floor. 

“Elara, what’s wrong?” he asked, his hands falling to her shoulders as he bent his knees slightly in an attempt to meet her eye. 

“Nothing,” she lied, “just a bad day, that’s all.” 

“You’re lying,” he said softly. 

He always knew. She looked up at him and gave him her best smile. “I’m going to bed, I’m tired,” she said, before pulling out of his grip and heading to the dorm, leaving Fred to watch her leave with a troubled look on his face. 

* * *

Elara sat in the courtyard alone, watching the trickling fountain as her mind seemed to race in cascading waves. It was a mild day, bright with sunshine and fluffy white clouds, her jumper keeping her warm enough in the cool breeze. She was too lost in her thoughts to see Draco stop in his tracks as he spotted her from behind the pillars. He walked towards the stone bench and sat down next to her as she stayed silent, barely acknowledging his presence. 

“Have you heard from your father?” he asked, joining her in looking at the fountain. 

“No,” she said. “So you can tell your father I know as much as he does.” 

“I wasn’t asking on behalf of my father.” 

Elara rolled her eyes. “Like you care.” 

“I do care.” 

She kept her eyes staring straight ahead. He didn’t seem like the same Draco she once knew so well, and she didn’t know if she would ever be able to truly believe in this side of him. A lifetime of his snide remarks, cruel jokes and taunting games had made it almost impossible for her to accept that this softness existed within him. That he was genuine when he told her not to care what others thought, that he remembered her favourite flowers or when he promised to give her the life that she wanted. 

Everything Draco did was to serve Draco. He operated on a purely singular motive, one to serve his own wants and needs. How fickle timing was, and how differently things may have been if all of this had only happened sooner. 

“Your father will be fine,” he said finally, the sneer in his voice replaced by a gentleness that Elara could tell didn’t come easy to him. “He’s Evander Prince, he’s well respected and has valuable connections. Those are the sort of things that will serve him.” 

And there it was, the Malfoy belief in power and useful allies. But she didn’t hate him for it anymore, in fact, if anything she felt herself softening at his words. He was saying the things that he would have found reassuring, and in that respect, she knew he was genuine. Draco must have felt her looking at him as he turned to face her, but his eyes were caught almost immediately by something beyond her shoulder. 

He sighed and stood. “I better get going,” he said. “Your so-called _friends_ won’t want me here.” 

Elara turned to see Fred, George and Heather coming towards her, Fred’s face impatient as he approached, but by the time she turned back around Draco was almost gone, walking back towards the castle without a second glance. 

The three of her friends crowded round her, Fred sitting next to her on the bench as Heather crouched down in front of her, her hands resting softly on Elara’s knees. 

“This is an intervention,” she said seriously. 

Elara looked between the three of them, all of them wearing similar expressions. “What are you talking about?” she asked 

“We’re worried about you,” Heather said. “We barely see you anymore. You stick to your room most days, you’re falling behind in class, you’re barely eating and you look exhausted. Just tell us what’s going on. We can help you.” 

Elara felt defeated as she shook her head. “You can’t help me,” she said quietly. 

“We can help more than Draco!” 

Almost immediately Elara began to cry, the stress and worry of the last week so overwhelming and unmanageable now. She remembered Fred’s words that day in Hagrid’s garden that this wasn’t all her burden to carry. Perhaps this was exactly what he meant. 

Heather was looking at her concernedly before Elara finally spoke again. “My father’s missing.” 

Fred, George and Heather all exchanged looks. “What do you mean he’s missing?” 

“Do you remember when I told you I hadn’t heard from him all summer?” she said thickly as Heather nodded. “Well, he’s stopped showing up for work now. No one can find him anywhere. Draco and Umbridge have been asking me about it. I wrote to him again but he hasn’t replied.” 

“Why is Malfoy wanting to know?” Fred asked before wrapping an arm around her shoulder, the action bringing her an immediate comfort.

“Lucius Malfoy is looking for him. I think he’s trying to recruit him.” 

An uneasy silence met her words. 

“I mean, it makes sense doesn’t it?” she said wetly, wiping at her eyes. “He’s a Prince for crying out loud, it’s expected of him. Throw in his wealth and international connections and he’s a prime target for the Death Eaters.” 

“So has he went into hiding?” Heather asked. 

She shrugged, “Either that or he’s refused them and been killed for it.” 

“You can’t think like that Elara,” George said. “Besides, if old Lucius is still looking for him then they can’t have got to him already.” 

“I never thought in my lifetime that I’d say these words but George is right,” Fred said as George rolled his eyes at him. “If they had hurt your dad they’d hardly be drawing attention to it by asking around everywhere.” 

Elara nodded as Heather leaned forward. “Elara, your dad knows how to look after himself, if there’s anyone who’s skilled at self-preservation it’s him. He’s a true Slytherin at heart. He’s not missing, he just doesn’t want to be found.” 

Elara could already feel the knot in her stomach loosen as she smiled at Heather. She squeezed her hand and wiped away the last of her tears as Fred rubbed her back consolingly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you about it before,” Elara said. “I just kept thinking it must have been a mistake. That he would write back and tell me he just had a bad case of the mumblemumps and had taken some time off or something.” 

“It’s ok, we understand,” Heather said with a kindly smile. “Just one thing though.” Elara looked at Heather as she raised an eyebrow. “Next time, come to us and not Malfoy will you?” 

Elara chuckled as she nodded. “I promise.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr - ghostseaao3


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